Liza (22 page)

Elspeth Taggart was shocked into silence.

‘Good God!’ William said. ‘A housekeeper? You?’ He admitted that it was not unknown for a lady to take such a position, and that they were usually distressed gentlefolk. But
Cecily
?

Liza laughed inside to see him so disconcerted, but she kept a straight face as she said reprovingly,
‘And why not, sir? If I marry one day then I may have the ordering of a household.’ But that was her answer for Cecily. For herself, with no intention of marrying now after Vince Bailey, she thought it would be useful experience. She might yet aspire to be a housekeeper, as her mother would wish.

‘
Yes, but I never imagined that you would be able to carry out the duties performed by Mrs Taggart. But this is a matter for her to decide.’

Liza had guessed as much, too. Elspeth Taggart was capable of telling him:
‘Awa’ wi’ ye!’ She looked appealingly at her.

Mrs Taggart seemed to be getting over her surprise.
‘I’ll think aboot it.’ And she took herself off: ‘I’ll chase that girl Martha to run you a bath.’

Liza called after her,
‘Thank you!’ Then she turned to William: Now I’ve seen a little of the town today I’d like to accept your offer. I said "some other time", remember? Will you take me to see where Mr Spencer worked, please?’

She had surprised him again — she could see it in his face. But he answered quickly,
‘I’ll be glad to. We’ll leave tomorrow at nine?’

‘
Yes, please.’

‘
Then away you go for your bath.’

*
* *

William watched her run light-footed up the stairs. She was full of surprises. He would never have thought that Cecily would offer to train as a housekeeper — train as anything for that matter. But if Elspeth Taggart agreed to take on the task — a big if — then the girl would find life very different below stairs. It might do her a world of good.

* * *

That night Liza lay sleepily in her bed while the rain rattled softly at the window. She looked back over her day and was content. She had seen her mother and Susan. That alone had lifted her heart. Another day had passed and she was more comfortable in her part. So far she had met with hostility but not doubt. She had not been challenged, let alone denounced. It was just as Cecily had foretold, save for this Captain Morgan who had known her before. He had said that Cecily had painted her face on that occasion. Liza thought that the girl must have been daubed like a Red Indian if William could not tell her from Liza — but anything was possible with Cecily.

Liza had only to play her part until the girl inherited, then take her fee. Roses all the way ...

She woke to a sky washed blue by the rain and a pale winter sun. There was a distant clanking, a noise she recognised, of an iron bucket being moved from one step of the flight at the front door to the next. A maid was washing the steps and Liza remembered doing that job, the pain of chapped hands in water on a winter morning. She stretched luxuriously, then remembered what lay ahead today and rose from her bed. Martha had dried and pressed her costume. It was not up to Liza
’s standard and she would have loved to show the girl how to do it, but she had to hold her tongue. And because Martha had done her best, Liza thanked her with a smile.

When she went in to breakfast William was seated over his second cup of coffee, his copy of
The
Times
spread in front of him. He laid it aside when she appeared. ‘Good morning.’

‘
Good morning. And you may read your paper. I’m not a talker at breakfast — unless you wish to?’

He grinned.
‘Thanks. Something here I want to finish.’ He lifted the paper again and hid behind it.

Liza helped herself deftly from the food laid out on the sideboard. She filled a cup with coffee, the pot in one hand, jug of hot milk in the other, pouring from both at once.

‘You’re a dab hand at that,’ William said.

Liza realised she had made another mistake and improvised quickly:
‘It was a trick I learned because it amused me.’

‘
You learned it well.’ And the paper lifted again.

Liza let out a silent sigh. Be careful! she told herself. She watched him covertly as she ate, but his eyes were intent on his reading. She had told her mother he was a good man, but that had been for Kitty
’s peace of mind. Still, he was not so distant now and that made her happier. Not that it mattered, of course. She did not care one way or the other so long as he did not see through her deception. How would he react if he did? She saw the strong line of his jaw, the mouth set firm, recalled the cold gaze he had turned on her more than once. She shuddered. He must not find out — or she must escape before he could vent his fury on her.

He looked up.
‘You’re very serious. Penny for them?’ He was not intimidating now — quite the opposite, in fact.

‘
They’re not worth a penny,’ Liza replied. ‘I was just thinking about our tour today.’

He set aside the newspaper as Mrs Taggart came in.
‘Good morning, Miss Spencer,’ she greeted Liza. ‘I’ve thought about what you asked me last night and I’m prepared to teach you my trade, if you still feel that way inclined.’

Liza nodded eagerly.
‘Yes, I’d like that.’

Evidently the housekeeper had not expected that: she blinked rapidly but soon recovered.
‘Aye? Would you be wanting to start now? No time like the present.’

‘
No,’ William answered firmly. ‘Miss Spencer is coming with me to see Mr Spencer’s office and one or two of his ships.’ He still thought of them as belonging to his late guardian, though they now belonged to him. ‘I think tomorrow will be early enough to start Miss Spencer’s training, if that is agreeable to her?’ He raised his eyebrows and glanced at Liza.

‘
Yes, of course,’ she said quickly.

Mrs Taggart nodded.
‘As you wish.’

William strode out into the hall and Liza whispered,
‘He’s pampering me.’

Mrs Taggart replied drily,
‘Aye, that might be so, but I’m thinking he’s worried about his dinner tonight if there was a stranger in the kitchen.’

Liza giggled and skipped after William.

* * *

William thought that Miss Spencer did not know what she had let herself in for. Elspeth had known about the trip to
the office so her talk of starting her instruction that morning had been intended to disconcert, but she had not got much change out of this slight girl. He would have to keep an eye on them. Liza came out into the hall then and he opened the front door. ‘Shall we be on our way?’ He followed her out into the morning air. She breathed in deeply, smiling into the sunlight, and he thought how pretty she was.

*
* *

They retraced their route of that first Sunday evening, driving through the town and turning short of the bridge to run down to the river. The streets became narrower and poorer, swarming with small children, and William slowed almost to walking pace. They ran alongside the motor-car, cheering and shouting, and Liza laughed. Then William said,
‘Oh, hell!’

‘
I
know
who
you
are
,
you
bitch
!’ That eldritch screech again. It was the old woman in her rusty black dress, hair and eyes wild as she ran out of her shop and into the road. Liza shrank back in her seat and the children scattered. ‘
I
know
you
!
You
’
re
the
young
bitch
come
home
!
There
’
s
blood
on
your
hands
!
Those
fine
clothes
were
bought
with
men
’
s
blood
! Her face was close, eyes glaring madly, nose a great beak. But the children had gone and William could accelerate; the Vauxhall drew away, leaving the old woman standing in the street and shaking her fist.

‘
I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I thought we could get by too quickly for her to come out.’

Liza was recovering from the shock.
‘Why did she shout at me like that? Who is she?’

They were inside the dockyard now and William stopped the car. He turned to face her.
‘I should have told you after that first night, but I hadn’t known you long and this is family history we don’t talk about. That’s not because we’re guilty but because we can’t do anything about it. We could go to the courts but Edward would never permit that.’

‘
Who is she?’ Liza asked again.

‘
Iris Cruikshank. She has that tagareen shop, and makes a living selling old clothes, furniture — anything that’s worth only a few coppers. She thinks Edward killed her husband and it isn’t true.’

Killed? Murdered? Liza thought. She had not expected to walk into this kind of situation.

William said, ‘The trouble really started back in the 1860s. Iris and her husband, Barney, had four boys, all sailors in the same ship. They caught cholera in India and died.’

‘
All four?’ Liza said.

‘
Within a few days of each other. When the news came Iris broke down and Barney went on a bender. Iris recovered but Barney stayed on the bottle. He lasted nearly ten years. He had a boat and he used to go out fishing between the piers. He made enough for his beer and to feed himself and Iris, but everyone knew he was drunk as a lord when he went out. Iris used to plead with him not to go but he wouldn’t listen. People told her not to worry, that there was a special Providence looked after drunks. Until he went out once too often.’

Barney Cruikshank had set out in his boat one winter night after leaving the pub, sitting on a thwart, pipe in his mouth and pulling at the oars. Edward Spencer was a young man of thirty. His father still ran the business and Edward was captain of one of the Spencer company
’s ships. He was on the bridge to bring her into harbour, standing by the helmsman. The night was dark. He saw the lights of the ferry as it crossed the river ahead of him but it was well clear and no hazard. He saw nothing of the boat, heard nothing either, until a lookout yelled that wreckage was passing down the port side.

The ship was stopped at once, they lowered their boats and others came out. They collected the wreckage, but Barney
’s body was never found. The ferry was tied up at the Monkwearmouth steps, near the scene of the accident, but the crew — there were only two — had not seen the collision. Edward had seen no boat lights and his helmsman and lookouts confirmed this. The coroner, at the inquest held in the Albion Hotel, reached a verdict of death by misadventure.

But Iris blamed Edward for not keeping a proper watch. She began to accuse him in public. While Edward refused to have her stopped, the police charged her with breach of the peace. She fell back on watching from her shop for any of the family to pass and screamed her accusations at them.

‘And that included me,’ William said. ‘And now you. Edward never captained another ship. From then on he worked in the company’s offices ashore. He would have had to do that soon because his father retired, but he would probably have gone to sea for a few more years if it hadn’t been for Barney’s death. I wish I could have stopped Iris, but Edward always said she’d suffered enough. She’s tried to make all of us pay when none of us was guilty.’

‘
What an awful story.’ Liza shivered. ‘That old woman lost husband and sons, but is still spouting her hatred after all these years.’

‘B
ut there’s nothing we can do.’ William got out of the car and handed her down. Liza said nothing then, but resolved that she would.

They walked by the river, along the quay, through hawsers, stacks of timber and cordage, to climb a gangway to the deck of one of the Spencer ships. The crew were all ashore, with only a watchman on board.
‘Now then, Captain.’

‘
Now then, Geordie. I’m just going to show this lady round.’

‘
Aye. Well, watch oot for the wet paint, starboard side o’ the wheelhouse.’

‘
Thanks.’

William took Liza over the vessel from stem to stern, ducking into the forecastle to see the narrow bunks of the seamen, down into the engine-room where the machinery stood massive but still.
‘There’s a small donkey engine that supplies power if it’s needed when the main engines are closed down.’

He was kept busy explaining because she asked a stream of questions, and eventually he said,
‘You really find this interesting?’

‘
Yes, I do.’

‘
You surprise me.’